


Your House or the Convent

by ithinkimintoit



Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Parentlock
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-24
Updated: 2016-07-10
Packaged: 2018-01-02 12:11:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 1,832
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1056624
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ithinkimintoit/pseuds/ithinkimintoit
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sherlock's daughter shows up at 221B and adjusts to living with John and Sherlock.<br/>Post-Reichenbach<br/>(Sherlock is 36 at this point.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Astlyr

"Dad."

"Astlyr."

"What?"

Sherlock continued to stare at the late-teenaged girl on their doorstep for a second, then flicked his attention up to John, who was on the top stair. 

"Oh, yes, John," Sherlock said, blinking. "This is Astlyr, my daughter."

"I'm sorry, your WHAT?" John had seen a lot in his time with Sherlock, but had never expected this. 

"My daughter. John I really didn't think this would be all that hard for you to grasp."

"I understand biology, Sherlock, but you have a daughter."

"Yes...? "  
"Still here," Astlyr pushed past Sherlock and walked up the stairs, pausing to shake John's hand. The girl in the burgundy hoodie continued to walk into the sitting room, then turned to her father and John. "Well, I take it I'm either upstairs or on the couch depending on your current situation, which is.... Not good? Fighting?"

"She's just like you, Sherlock."

"Nonsense, she doesn't even look like me."

Astlyr shrugged, looking in the mirror. She had Sherlock's eyes, no doubt about that. But she had brown wavy hair, not dark curls, and the only facial feature she really shared with her father was his cheekbones, though hers were slightly less prominent. 

"Astlyr also has social skills. Very different from 17 year-old me."

"Seventeen... So you were nineteen?"

"Yes," Sherlock said with a sigh. 

"Well, Astlyr. You can take my old room upstairs if you like," John told the girl. 

"I was right!" Astlyr spun and pointed at her father. Sherlock just rolled his eyes with a scoff. 

"It's seven, so John and I were planning on getting dinner soon. Ready in fifteen?" 

"Yep," Astlyr said as she trudged up the stairs. 

John turned on his partner. "Words, Sherlock. Explanations."

"Uni, drunkenness, lack of condoms," Sherlock said, falling into his chair and pinching the bridge of his nose. 

"I've known you for six years now, how could I not know that you have a daughter?"

"We don't talk much."

"Well, I can see that."

"Her mother told me, 'When she's older, it's your house or the convent.'"

"She said that?"

"Yep."

"And obviously..."

"She's not at a convent." 

Astlyr came down a few minutes later after unpacking part of her duffel bag into John's old dresser. She and her father had written emails back and forth for three years, and had had the occasionally phone call before that. She could never see him when he was into drugs, but met up once or twice after he got clean. And of course, she followed John's blog. Sherlock could be distant when they were on a case, so Astlyr used the blog to keep track of her father. 

"Well, Astlyr, ready for dinner?" Sherlock asked as his daughter came into the sitting room and he stood.

"Yeah," she replied.

John stood up as well and went to grab his coat. 

"Wait," Astlyr said, putting up a hand. "John's coming?"

John looked at Sherlock, then back at Astlyr.

"Yes, of course, Astlyr. Don't be silly," Sherlock said. 

"Oh."

John looked at Astlyr. "Look, if you don't want me to go..."

"No. It's fine." She gave a weak smile, then turned and began walking down the stairs, pulling her hood up.

"Uh, Sherlock..." John began, but he was already running down the stairs. 

 

"So, Astlyr," John began. Their food had just arrived, but they hadn't talked since arriving at Angelo's. "Where do you go to school?"

She looked at him over her fork. "I don't."

"Sorry?"

"I don't go to school."

John looked at Sherlock for some sign of what Astlyr was talking about, but his partner just shrugged. 

"You don't go to school," John repeated.

"Yes, and you're really quite dull. Father, why do you keep him around?"

"Astlyr."

She sighed.

"I finished school a year and two months ago, and had been traveling in America since then," Astlyr explained. 

"Where abouts in America?" John asked.

"America."

John sighed. It was going to take a lot to get to know this girl.

"Why have you come back to London?"

"Well, as you know, I haven't seen Dad in far too long."

"Don't blame me," Sherlock finally spoke.

"I'm not."

"Your mother wouldn't let me see you."

"I know."

Sherlock and his daughter stared at each other for a few seconds.

John finally broke in. "Ready to head home then?"

Astlyr dropped her fork and stood up, not breaking eye contact with her father. Sherlock stood and finally looked away. "Yes," he said, "Let's go home."

 

Astlyr spent the evening in her room, unpacking and making the bed. Need to get some posters, she though. 

Sherlock spent the evening fiddling around on the computer, John doing idle tasks. 

At 10:30, John went to bed. "I'll be there in a minute," Sherlock told him.

After John closed the door, Sherlock went up to Astlyr's new room and knocked on the door before opening it. She was sitting on the bed, playing on her laptop. 

"What, Dad."

"I just... thought I might tuck you in, like I used to?" Sherlock remained in the doorway, for once, not knowing what to do.

"I haven't lived with you in ten years, Dad. A lot has changed since I was seven," Astlyr said, looking up from her laptop.

"Well, yes, but..."

"But what?"

"Nothing. Goodnight, Astlyr," Sherlock said, closing the door as he left the room.

"'Night, Daddy."

Sherlock stopped. A small smile fell across his face. He could barely remember the last time Astlyr had called him Daddy.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We learn more about the past of Sherlock and Astlyr.

"I owe you an explanation," Sherlock said as he closed the door to his room. 

"Uh, yeah, definitely," John put down his book and looked at his partner. 

Sherlock crawled onto the bed and lay on his side facing John. "Astlyr's mother was a girl from uni that I dated for about a month. She got pregnant, broke up with me, and tried to raise Astlyr on her own for about a year, then decided I needed to be in the baby's life. So Astlyr would come up on weekends and for every other week in the summer."

"Well at least you were in her life..."

"John, Astlyr hated me. She sincerely dreaded coming to my flat. I don't know why. I hate not knowing! Maybe she hated me picking her up because Anna and I would fight everytime we got within ten feet of each other. Or that we always got take away, or that once she got older she had to take the tube in, or that I moved a lot or that she had to sleep in my bed but I slept on the couch or when I was seeing victor or because when I started-" He stopped. He choked. He rolled onto his knees and buried his face in his pillow. 

"When I started drugs." He suddenly brought his head up after some deep breaths. 

"Oh Sherlock-"

"No, John! When she was almost six, that's when I started, and she stopped coming when she was seven because it got so bad she wasn't allowed to see me! She hated me after that! I tried calling and writing and texting, but no! She wouldn't speak to me."

He paused . John placed his hand on Sherlock's back. 

"I couldn't even speak to Anna and ask about her. I was completely cut off from my daughter, do you know what that's like John?" Sherlock's voice was raising; John had to shush him so Astlyr couldn't hear. 

But she could hear. Once Sherlock left her room, Astlyr crept down the stairs and sat outside their bedroom, listening to what her father told John. She hadn't known she had caused him so much pain. The truth was, Astlyr didn't hate coming to her fathers house. She didn't hate him or the constant take away curry. She thought moving constantly was fun and, yes, she hated victor, but only because he wasn't Anna. No one was Anna. Not even uncle mycroft, which dad doesn't know about that does he? Astlyr thought. Dad doesn't know about mum or living with mycroft And oh shit I guess I have to tell him and oh god. Is dad crying? 

"I'm going to use the restroom, John."

Shit.

Astlyr tried to hurry out of the hall, but Sherlock was quick out of bed. 

"Astlyr?" 

She turned around slowly. "Hi dad."

He was standing in the doorway, holding the door open. "What, what are you-"

"Everything all right?" John. Father and daughter simultaneously rolled their eyes as John got out of bed. 

Sherlock jerked his head to the side to tell Astlyr to go back upstairs as he turned back into the room, closing the door behind him. 

Astlyr practically ran up to what used to be johns room. She sank onto the bed and held her head between her knees. How could I have been so cruel to him? How could I make him think I hated him? 

"How?!" She started crying. 

"Astlyr?" Sherlock walked into her room without knocking and sat on the edge of the bed. "I- uhm..."

Astlyr practically launched herself at her father and wrapped her arms around his neck.  
"I'm so sorry dad!" she sobbed. 

"No, Astlyr, it's all my fault," he awkwardly patted her back, but she just held him tighter. 

"No! I didn't hate you or visiting you and I loved that curry, I'm so sorry you thought that. I was terrible to you!"

Sherlock paused, then hugged his daughter back. 

"I loved you so much, you know that? And I still do, even though you might not think so-"

"Shut up, dad."

So he did. Sherlock and his daughter sat hugging until she fell asleep a few minutes later. He laid her on the bed and walked back to his room, feeling much better than if he had just cried in the bathroom.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So here it is! Chapter two!  
> Sorry I took so long to update, I just suck at thinking up what should happen next. 
> 
> To clarify: Anna is Astlyr's mom. I didn't make it very clear up there but that was sort of the point. (Is that a literary technique?)  
> Enjoy!


	3. an update

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> oh boy

hey fam  
I haven't come back to this since I was posting it

I was posting it freshman year of high school  
I'm about to go into my senior year  
needless to say it's been a while

i know it unceremoniously ended on a very weird note  
it's very out of character and strange

funny story  
in the months I was writing these chapters I wrote a lot of little bursts of this story and I really liked the character I created   
but I could never connect them in a way I liked  
so the story died  
I would post all these little bits but sadly they were lost in the fire

if you were one of the people that read and liked this story, wicked.   
if not, why are you here  
I imagine most of you have forgotten about this story and won't see this  
but because I liked it I felt it needed closure 

so this is me, Stevie, previously known as ithinkimintoit, currently known as Oedipus-jokes on tumblr, but I don't go on there any more. I haven't watched Sherlock in over a year, signing off.

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you enjoy!  
> So this is chapter one in a ? chapter series.  
> Also, Astlyr is a Norse name meaning Divine Strength.
> 
> Edit:  
> I think I'm going to completely re-write this. I wasn't totally sure where to go with this and I'm just over-all not happy with it. Let me know if you have any ideas, either on comments here or on my tumblr: ithinkimintoit.   
> Thanks for bearing with me.


End file.
